Never Say Die
by learninghowtobreathe
Summary: Grantaire is an art teacher in Enjolas' high school. Lots of sex ensues.
1. Chapter 1

**Yes. Yes, I put my fics on hiatus so I could write this. Yes, I also put my fucking novel on hiatus so I could write this. Can you blame me?**

**This fic happened because both me and Jinx suffer from lack of Teacher/Student AUs in this fandom.**

**Also this fic is dedicated to my wonderful friends – Jinx and Keisha, who I hope like what I've done there with our barricade boys :)**

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**CHAPTER ONE: ****_Obsession, it takes control_**

Grantaire always considered himself **a** sensible man.

Of course he has had his ups and downs, with battling depression it was to be expected, he supposed. After all no one wins with depression forever. There was also his drinking, though he mostly controlled it now. But beside this, he was sensible, he could take care of himself and he thought of himself as immune to the majority of stupid ideas. He had an apartment he was comfortable in, he ha**d** his painting, though it never become more than a hobby. **H**e couldn't afford **a** career as unpredictable as** being****an** artist, not without any support from his family. He managed to graduate from university, though it took him **longer** than his friends and he couldn't really say he worked hard. But now he was living on his own and he has steady job as an art teacher in nerby high school, and couldn't really complain.

Everything was well. Everything, but...

Well, everything but the fact that he somehow managed to develop a crush **on** one of his students.

That was kinda a problem.

It wouldn't be that bad, if it was only him, only his 'innocent' – well, not exactly innocent granting he was turning 28 next month – crush he could try to overcome and forget.

But it wasn't just some regular studen**t** he had crush on, no. It was _Enjolras. _Unbelievably beautiful, unbelievably **smart**, golden god, Apollo Enjolras, who smiled at him with his brillinat, insolent smile, who argued with him during every lesson, who provoked him all the time.

Enjolras with his unruly locks looking **as if they were** made of **the** finest silk, with his dreamy eyes full of fire **and** his pale, creamy skin.

And, if it wasn't bad enough, Enjolras seemed to reciprocate his feelings. **Actually, no. "Seemed" was an understatement**. Who showed **Grantaire** at every minute that he wants a place not only in his bed**,** but also in his heart.

Who stayed after lesson and helped him clean up, set easels in order, wash**ed** brushes, clean**ed** the paint stains, and who dropped not**-even-slightly **subtle hints all the time. Who crossed any and every boundary, brushing his hands over Grantaire's arms or staring him straight in the eyes.

But it was just plain wrong, okay?

Grantaire was 28. For God's sake, he was almost _thirty_. And he was teaching there! It was his job, and he _fucking needed that job. _He couldn't afford getting fired for seducing some kid.

Because that's Enjolras was. A kid.

He certainly shouldn't have fantasies about him spread naked on his bed.

The thing was, that Enjolras wasn't just _some__kid_. That was whole problem. He could refuse some random kid. But he couldn't say no to Enjolras.

So, you see, Grantaire was so, so fucked.

There he was, lying on his bed, the same bed he imagined Enjolras spread on; with hands under his head, dressed in too big black shirt and jeans who was gradually becoming tighter in certain places.

It was 7am and his first class started at 9. He should be getting ready, and instead he was lying there; daydreaming and sinking into a pit self-hatred.

He really should do something with it. With his feelings. He was losing control dangerously fast. He couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything, and, what was worse, the most embarassing, couldn't concentrate while in lessons with Enjolras' class.

Other classes wasn't that bad. He set the topic and sat at* his desk, sketching, or even painting sometimes, taking breaks and helping his students, giving them advice and correcting mistakes. Most of students loved him, being the cool teacher, with his tattoos and piercings – luckily the dress code at his school was almost nonexistent – and with his witty sense of humor. He was always nice to his students; he generally liked his job and actualy loved working with teenagers.

What was surprising was that he was the teacher students were came to with personal problems, looking for understanding. And R has been through too much shit in his life to not understand. He tried to help those kids as much as he could, and when he couldn't he tried at least to listen to them.

So usually his job was okay. Even better than okay.

And then there were lessons with Enjolras' class.

They were in their final year of high school, most of them had turned 18 already and were legally adults. A couple of them wanted to apply for art schools, and were really good artist. He really enjoyed working with them, helping them with their final projects.

Enjolras was one of the youngest in his class, still 17, but he sure as hell didn't act it. He was so confident, sitting cross legged over at his easel, golden locks tied in a bun, his red shirt a bright spot over the background of the white canvas. Grantaire could imagine him right now, his cheeky smile, piercing eyes, the way he looked at him over his lashes, teasingly licking his lips. There was nothing modest about it, all his behaviour screamed pure seduction.

Grantaire groaned and got up off the bed, knocking down his sketchbook. Sketchbook filled with rough sketches and painstakingly detailed portraits of Enjolras.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. There was no point in lying, he was trying to look his best. He wasn't actually vain, but knew he handsome; for God's sake he had worked as a model briefly during his uni years. He knew what his advantages were, so now he tamed his locks a bit, so they wasn't so unruly, and framed his eyes in black eyeliner.

He put on his worn leather jacket and went out.

He was screwed anyway.

Maybe it was time to search for another job.


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all I really apologise for all mistakes in chapter 1, I have beta now so it'll be fixed as soon as I can. I forgot to add a disclaimer that English is not my native language, but anyway, thanks for spotting errors and letting me know :)**

**Second – I've been given fantastic idea to include Eponine in all the incoming sex, so yay, you can await that!**

**Omg it was so long since I'd written honest to God porn! I hope I remember how sex works xd**

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**UPDATE: Now betad. Sorry for pronouns mistake - remember childer, never mix vodka with wine while drinking xd**

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He arrived to school early. His class was empty, so he sat over the desk and tried to calm down his nerves. The air was full of the familiar scent of paint and turpentine and he breathed deeply.

When door opened he almost jumped, startled, but soon realized it was just Eponine, one of his best, most talented students, who wanted to apply for graphic design as xe planned to be a tattoo designer. Right now xe was working over xyr final project, a huge self portrait, which was now leaned over the wall in the corner.

Eponine, dressed in skinny jeans with holes on the knees and an unbuttoned plaid shirt, threw xyr huge backpack on the floor near xyr easel and smiled to him. Xyr lips were slightly swollen and bruised in the perfect shade of deep purple.

"Eponine." He smiled back, frowning. "What happened to you?"

Xe laughed, delicate giggle and ran xyr hand over xyr dark red bangs sticking out from the black beanie. "Got my lip pierced." Xe shrugged. "It should look better soon."

"I certainly hope so." Grantaire found himself smiling even wider. "We don't want repeat what happened when you got tongue stud."

"It wasn't that bad." Eponine shrugged again, lifting xyr painting and setting it on an easel. "Didn't have to talk to people for a month, that was refreshing."

Grantaire was just about to answer, when bell rang and students started to coming into class. His group was little, with only 9 students in it, and everyone was already in, save for Enjolras.

Grantaire found himself nervous.

He was going to do something today. He didn't know yet what was this something supposed to be, but he was sure he needed to change something.

After almost year of pinning he was tired. He needed a change. Damn this all, he was a great teacher, he could find another job.

Ten minutes passed, with all his students slowly immersing into their work.

Grantaire was sketching with charcoal, to kill time, but he couldn't find place for himself. He was angry at himself. He desperately needed both a drink and cigarette. Would it be really unprofessional to smoke over the window in class full of his students? Probably yes, he wondered, staring blankly at page before him, with half finished sketch of Enjolras standing with his arm propped on his hip and smiling crooked smile. He probably shouldn't do in in class where everyone was to see, but damn, his hand seemingly has life of it's own.

Just when he was going to snap and smoke after all, doors opened, revealing very late, and not caring at all Enjolras. He was dressed in skinny jeans and red v-neck with his curls braided and tied with matching red ribbon, and smiled knowing smile at Grantaire, who couldn't help but to stare. He went slowly to his place, swaying his hips and brushing R's arm with his pale hand at the way.

It was the last, tiny thing, that broke Grantaire's resistance, and cursing all world under his breath he decided to give up all his hopes.

"Enjolras." His voice turned out a bit shaky, so he swallowed and tried again. "Enjolras."

"Yes, monsieur Grantaire?" Enjolras' voice on his part was almost mocking.

"Stay after class." R was almost proud of how composed he sounded in his own ears.

"Of course." He honest to God bowed.

Grantaire almost groaned at the sight, but somehow he managed to calm down and sit behind his desk again. The rest of the lesson passed in silence, as he finished his sketch. Luckily none of his students needed his help today, so when bell rang and everyone started to leave he was still almost completely calm and composed, or at least as much as he could be in Enjolras' presence.

He walked slowly to Grantaire's desk, smiling and looking him straight into the eyes and all Grantaire's composure went to hell.

"You wanted to see me?" Enjolras' voice was still on the edge of mockery.

"Yes." He found himself lacking words. "Enjolras, listen, we...you...we can't..."

He looked up, and Enjolras' face caught him of the gurard, his expression suddenly vunerable. He was worrying his lower lip between his teeth and looking at him with such an unsure look, it made Grantaire want to wrap his arms around him and comfort him. He reminded himself that Enjolras was barely 18, just a teenager, and that they both played dangerous game.

"Listen." He said, suddenly sure of what he wanted to say. "It can't go on like this. I may lose my job. However... the school year ends in three weeks."

Enjolras looked at him with such hope in his eyes he couldn't believe it was the same boy who used to seduce him literally every day of the year.

"We...We obviously can't be seen here..." He stated, unsure what to say next. "But..."

Enjolras' abrupt movement caught him off guard. The younger man ran his fingers over his hand with the unsure action of trembling digits. He ended up entwining their fingers together.

And then everything happened so fast.

Grantaire groaned "Oh, damn it," as he wrapped his hand gently over Enjolras' neck, bringing their lips together.

The kiss was chaste, barely a touch of lips, but then Enjolras was moaning, broken sound in the silence of the classroom and their kiss turned heated, lips crashing, tongues fighting for dominance.

Stopping seemed impossible and Grantaire had no idea how he found the strength to do so.

"We can't kiss here." He whispered, tangling his fingers in Enjolras' hair, now a let loose, mess of golden ringlets.

"But..."

"Wait for me after your classes." He dropped a last gentle kiss on his lips.

"I never really believed you reciprocate my feelings." Enjolras' voice was almost broken, full of disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" R rolled his eyes, trying to overcome sudden desire to laugh. He felt so ridiculously happy, so light, like all his dreams came true all at one.

Cause they did. "Have you seen yourself? Who could say no to you?"

"I thought that you..."

"Wait for me after your classes." Grantaire repeated, kissing him again.

Bell rang, disturbing them, as they kissed for the last time.

As Enjolras left the classroom Grantaire fall back on his chair, putting his head over his hands and laughing to himself.

He couldn't believe his luck.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3: ****_I guess that's love, I can't pretend._**

**First of all – sorry for late update. I've been on unexpected trip in Paris.**

**Which being said, I walked over the streets our boys walked over, I've seen Victor Hugo's house and I kinda got SO MANY IDEAS for this fic I literally have no idea what to choose (no speaking I cried so hard xd).**

**So, even though I basically planned this fic to be only 3 chapters and more like PWP, I decided to expand it :D**

**Should I be sorry for this? I probably should xd Well, I'm going to hell anyway.**

**Sorry it's so hopelessly romantic, I needed some fluff in my life.**

**All feedback and constructive critics are appreciated!**

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It was legitimately the longest day in Grantaire's life.

He ran his lessons – or rather sat by his desk and desperately tried not to grin – helped his students with their projects, and even managed to leave class and get himself coffee, while catching a glimpse of Enjolras' wild hair on the corridor. He used all his will not to go after him, but go back to class and run the lesson like nothing ever happened.

But he was just a man, right? He could only stand so much. So when 3 pm. struck on his watch, he put card saying that his afternoon classes were cancelled today on his door and almost ran through school's corridor, stopping only when he reached the courtyard outside.

Enjolras was waiting for him.

He was leaning over the column there, his arms crossed, hair loose and falling to his shoulders. His face lit up as he saw Grantaire and he came to him without a word and followed him into the streets. They walked in silence.

The way to his apartment never seem to Grantaire so long, and granted that he used to walk there high, drunk or both at the same time in the past it was certainly something.

Next to him Enjolras was casting him unsure glances, all his confidence suddenly lost. He looked younger than usually, his hair a mess and his lips red from biting on them, not like the almost-adult he was, but a lost child.

Somehow it didn't make R feel as guilty as he supposed he should feel, given what he was doing. Was he seducing a child? Or maybe being seduced by child? He wasn't sure.

Instead of dwelling on these thoughts, he simply caught Enjolras' hand in his and gave him a reassuring smile before speeding up.

When they finally reached the building, he was sure years had passed. He fumbled for the key in his pockets, opened the door and let them in. And then found himself lost at sea.

They were looking at each other awkwardly, standing in the doorway, not knowing what to do.

"So..." he started, not sure what to say.

"So..." Enjolras was worrying his lower lip between his teeth again, and R found himself hypnotized by it.

He bowed gently and put a chaste kiss on Enjolras' lips.

A slim hand tangled in his hair and R felt his heart swell.

Damn. He was so hopelessly in love with this kid, it was ridiculous.

He navigated them gently towards bedroom, when suddenly Enjolras pulled off and looked at him with huge, unsure eyes.

"Wait." He frowned.

Grantaire found himself reciprocating the frown. "What is it?" He asked gently.

"You...We...You're not playing me, right?" He asked, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

"Oh god." It took all Grantaire's willpower not to laugh. "You're not as confident as you like to act, are you?" He smiled, taking boy's chin in his hand lightly to make him look in his eyes.

"Not really, no." He admitted, trying to avoid his sight. "But..."

"No." He interrupted. "I'm not playing you. I'm ddesperately trying to prevent myself from falling in love with you, but I guess it's too late for that."

The teen's eyes turned even bigger as he blinked several times, trying to understand what he had just heard.

"Oh."

"Oh indeed." R laughed silently, kissing him again, this time more firm.

They kissed for some time, more slow and intimate this time. When they broke for air Enjolras looked dazed.

Grantaire took him by slightly trembling hand and led to the bedroom, making him sit on the edge of the bed and sitting next to him, lacing their fingers together.

"What are we going to do with it?" He asked gently. "School's year ends in three weeks. You're graduating. It's all up to you now."

Enjolras seemed to be getting back some of his confidence.

"So we could...?" He looked at R expectantly. Grantaire nodded, asking himself silently what the hell was he doing right now. Not that he was going to stop.

Then suddenly Enjolras' hands were in his hair, tugging gently, and his lips were on his, kissing him in the way he thought all their kisses would be, heated and insistent. One of his hands wandered from R's locks to his chest and tugged at the material of his t shirt, and he broke the kiss to laugh breathlessly and take it off, making Enjolras to do the same. He moved on the centre of the bed, sitting by the headboard and lifted Enjolras so he was sitting on his lap, absentmindedly realising how skinny and light he was.

Grantaire tangled his hand in Enjolras' hair, tugging hard and making him arch his head back and attacked his neck with feather light kisses and bites just as he wanted to do every day for the last year. This elicited a pretty moan, so he continued, as Enjolras' hands roamed over his chest.

His inexperienced hands skimmed over his nipple just as he bit at teen's earlobe and their moans mixed in the air.

"Wait." R's lips hovered milimeters over Enjolras'. "Wait. Is it your first time?"

Maybe he was insane, he thought, but at least he has some last tiny parts of responsibility left.

Enjolras' eyes were clouded as he nodded once, sharply.

"We'll go slow then, okay?" He asked, kissing him gently.

To his surprise the teen's lips turned into an adorable pout.

"But I don't want to go slow." He kissed him, fierce almost angry kiss. "I've wanted you for so long."

"I'm not going anywhere." He reciprocated the kiss, petting his hair gently. "And it's not like it's going to be only time we're doing this. Plus..." He hesitated for a while. "I've wanted you to. Want you." He corrected himself.

"Oh."

Instead of answering R kissed him again, lifting him up again (Jesus, was this kid even eating?) and undressed him completely.

Sitting in front of him, Enjolras was hard and so stunningly beautiful Grantaire couldn't really believe his luck. He told him so, watching as the teen blushed adorably at his words.

He took a minute to undress himself and roam in the drawer in search for lube, then he was back and attacked Enjolras with kisses. He still couldn't believe he was really doing this.

He stretched him open, distracting him with kisses and murmuring sweet nothings to his ear, as Enjolras moaned into his lips and writhed under his ministrations.

As R finally pushed into him they were both short for breath.

As Enjolras rode him with his head thrown back and golden locks falling over his back, all his inhibitions went to hell and Grantaire found himself whispering words of love into the boy's skin, not caring at all it was their first time. He loved this boy for so long, why would he stop himself from telling him?

As Enjolras came he whispered "I love you" into his skin.

As they lied curled together, panting, Grantaire couldn't believed he was so stupid for not doing it earlier.

"So." Enjolras stretched over his sheets just like Grantaire had imagined him doing so many times. "Are you my boyfriend now?"

"Don't you think I'm a bit too old to be your boyfriend?" Grantaire laughed, pulling him in for a kiss.

"You're not old." Enjolras pouted, curling over him in an adorable manner.

"I'm way too old for you."

"No, you're not." He repeated. "And even if you are, who cares? I love you."

"I love you too." R ruffled his hair. "And yes I am."

Enjolras frowned.

And then he blurted out "Can move in with you?"

Grantaire blinked, surprised. "What?"

"Can I move in with you?" He repeated.

"Wh...Wait, what are your parents going to think about it?" He blinked again.

"I'm not living with my parents." The adorable pout was back on his lips. "I live with my dumb flatmate. I love you. You love me. I want to move in with you."

"Oh my god." Grantaire couldn't help but laugh. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Can I?" He repeated, stubborn.

"Yes!" He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can. I guarantee you, you'll be back to your dumb flatmate in a week though."

"No I won't." Enjolras kissed him, content, smiling brightly, and curled up tightly, even closer to him.

Grantaire rolled his eyes again, not believing what his life has become.

But he was happy. He was so, so happy.

How could he not be?


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4: ****_"We do it in the dark with smiles on our faces"_**

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**I won't lie, I wrote this chapter while being extremelly high. I don't even know what I took, I mixed everything I had. So please forgive me all mistakes and all, concrit like always appreciated.**

**Also, I took a lot of liberty here and description of Enjolras' graduation is just a bit adjusted mine high school graduation party.**

**I hope when we meet in wherever we go after death Victor Hugo won't hit me with a frying pan for what I've done here.**

**But hey, we all know this fic is just excuse for me to make my boys have as much sex as possible.**

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School was...weird. Unreal. It became so, so unreal for both of them. But it's always like that with the beginnings of new love, isn't it?

Everything about the two of them was unreal and it didn't matter at all.

Looking back, Grantaire really wondered how come no one realized what's going on, how come he didn't lose his job and how the hell come Enjolras didn't get expelled from school.

Maybe he wasn't so unlucky after all, he thought.

But the day of graduation came, and there he was, sitting at his place with other teachers, his gaze fixed only on a certain blonde student.

Enjolras was sitting by the corner of the table, and looked like he didn't care about anything but leaving as soon as possible.

Which was absolutely true.

And which was exactly what R was feeling right now too.

Students were allowed to wear what they wanted for the less official part of graduation – where they were now – and Enjolras was wearing jeans entirely too tight to be decent and dark red t-shirt that made him look even paler, more marble, and his locks like pure liquid gold streaming down his arms, with a stray lock brushing over his visible collarbone.

All R wanted was to kiss him all over, right here and now. And maybe take him to some empty class for a quick fuck. Yes, that was a nice idea.

He shook his head, dark ringlets went flying, trying to clear his head. God, it was so hot, he was melting in his jeans and t-shirt, black was a bad idea, but really, almost all his clothes were black.

The party was boring, students chatting with each other, drinking orange juice while they looked forward for event to end so they could go and get something with alcohol in it, teachers talking politely about nothing, everybody smiling fake bright smiles.

Grantaire could only think about one thing.

Today was the day Enjolras was officially out of school.

Enjolras, who turned 18 three days ago.

They were legal.

It really deserved some celebration.

In bed, preferably.

Not that Grantaire was only thinking about taking his – well, boyfriend was the word – to bed. No, he was also thinking about said boyfriend's upcoming exams, college applications and thousands of other things.

But that, he would deal with that tomorrow.

There's always tomorrow.

"We're going to get caught." Grantaire panted, breaking the kiss, and feeling almost physical pain from doing so. "We're totally going to get caught."

"Who cares." Enjolras was placing open mouthed kisses at his neck and collarbones as Grantaire's t-shirt got lost somewhere on the way. "I'm a graduate now."

"I still work there!" That was what Grantaire wanted to say, but what got lost in the moan that broke out of his throat.

Enjolras slid down his body, maintaining eye contact for the whole time. That was so damn erotic, R thought, he could come just from the sight. No 18 years old boy should be that erotic, he thought, it should be banned somehow.

"You're going to be the death of me." He said, his voice desperate, hands already tangling in golden locks.

"I hope not." Enjolras smiled his crooked smile. "I definitely enjoy you being alive."

He unzipped Grantaire's pants and pushed it down his legs along with his underwear, he boy's lips ghosting over the head of his cock, placing a teasing kiss finally.

It's really fucking happening, Grantaire thought. I'm getting sucked off by my ten years younger, gorgeous boyfriend in the art classroom of the school I work in. It's really happening and it shouldn't turn me on, should it?

He came with a muffled shout of Enjolras' name, sliding to the floor almost right afterwards, legs trembling. He pulled Enjolras for a messy kiss, fumbling with his zipper, stroking him into completion in rushed strokes, exchanging broken kisses and whispering words of love.

Enjolras came with his eyes closed, head thrown back, golden hair falling over his arms and it was the most beautiful sight R has ever seen. He saved it to his memory to paint one day, a painting just for the two of them.

They left the class giggling like the pair of schoolboys, fingers tangled as school was empty and there was no one to see. And Enjolras was right, who cared? They all could see.

"If you think I'm over with you, you've never been more wrong." Grantaire whispered to his golden haired lover's ear. "We're celebrating this properly in our own bed."


End file.
